It's the Thought That Counts
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Makenna Quinn asked me to write something fluffy. This is about as fluffy as the Joker and Harley Quinn get. ;-)


**It's the Thought That Counts**

"I repeat, you are in no danger from the Joker…"

"It's like they're trying to challenge me!" exclaimed the Joker, laughing as he entered the living room where Harley was watching the news. "They're just asking for me to do something big and hurt a lotta people, saying things like that!"

"Puddin'! You're back!" she exclaimed, leaping into his arms and kissing him. "How'd the heist go?"

He shrugged. "Coulda gone better, coulda gone worse. Bats showed up, so I left the guys to handle him while I got away with most of the loot," he said, taking the sack off his shoulder and emptying it onto the table.

"Oooh, look at all the pretties!" giggled Harley, clapping her hands in excitement.

"Yeah, why don't you pick out something nice for yourself, toots?" he said, pinching her cheek affectionately. "Oh, which reminds me, I picked up something for you on the way back," he said, going back out into the hall. He returned with a bouquet of roses, which he presented to Harley. "There you go, dollface."

She stared at him in confusion. "Um…thanks, Mr. J," she stammered, taking the bouquet from him. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, sweets, I just thought my special little gal deserved a little something special," he said, kissing her. "Now why don't you go start dinner, and I'll plan a scheme that'll make Commissioner Gordon there regret ever saying people weren't in any danger from me. Thanks, pooh bear, you're an angel."

And he strode off to his study. Harley stared after him, completely dumbfounded. Mr. J never brought her presents for no reason. He just didn't. It didn't happen. He was a really spontaneous guy, but he was never spontaneously sweet, at least not without a reason behind it. Usually an unpleasant reason. Well, Harley intended to find out what that was.

She knocked on the door to his study. "Yes?" he called.

She entered the room where he was already hard at work, scribbling away at his desk. He turned as she entered and smiled. "Yes, pumpkin pie?"

"Mr. J, about the roses…"

"No need to thank me, sweets, it was nothing," he said, returning to his work.

"No, I didn't come to thank you…I mean…I mean, thank you, of course, but, um…I just kinda wanna know why you got them for me, puddin'."

"I told you, baby, I just thought you deserved a present. I thought it would be nice."

"Oh…yeah. Yeah, it is," agreed Harley. "Why…are you being nice, Mr. J?" she asked, slowly. "Got something bad you wanna tell me?"

"What? No. No, it ain't nothing like that," he chuckled. "I was just trying to be nice. Don't you like the roses, pooh?"

"Oh yeah, of course I do, Mr. J," said Harley, hastily. "But…um…it's just kinda unusual for you to do nice things for no reason."

A thought suddenly struck her. "Oh…Mr. J," she gasped, horrified. "Mr. J, you ain't…gonna dump me, are you?"

"Why would I be nice to you if I was going to dump you?" he demanded. "Why wouldn't I just throw you out like I usually do?"

"I dunno. I just thought…I mean sometimes people prepare people for bad news by being extra nice."

"Look, Harley, I've told you, there's no reason behind it," he snapped. "Can't I just be spontaneously affectionate to my girlfriend without my girlfriend assuming something terrible is about to happen?"

"Sure, of course you can, Mr. J," said Harley. And then another thought struck her. "Oh my God, puddin'," she breathed, gazing at him as tears came to her eyes.

"What?" he snapped.

"You ain't…you ain't…dying, are you?" she gasped.

Joker stared at her in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. "Of course I…"

"Oh, puddin'!" sobbed Harley, rushing to embrace him. "Oh my God, what am I gonna do after you're gone?! I won't ever be happy again! Maybe we can have some sort of murder-suicide pact before the end! How much time have you got, Mr. J?!"

"Harley, get off!" he snapped, shoving her away. "I'm not dying!"

"You…you ain't?" she gasped, wiping her eyes in relief. "Oh, thank God, Mr. J!" she sobbed, hugging him tightly. "Oh Jesus…what do you mean by scaring me like that, huh?" she demanded, suddenly angry.

"Scaring you?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Bringing me flowers and making me think you're dying!" she snapped. "That ain't a very nice way to treat the gal who adores you!"

"For the last time, I was trying to be nice by bringing you a present!"

"Well, I didn't ask for you to bring me a present!"

"You don't ask people to bring you presents – they give them because they wanna show they care!"

"Yeah, and you don't ever show you care, and you don't ever get me presents!"

"And I won't ever again if this is what I get!"

"Good! Don't start a precedent if you can't keep it up! Next thing you know, I'm gonna start expecting presents from you whenever you go out, and then what're you gonna do?!"

"Well, I don't need to worry about that, because I ain't ever bringing you anything ever again!" he shouted.

"Fine by me! You keep your goddamn flowers!" shouted Harley, throwing them in his face. "And don't ever scare me by trying to be nice again!"

"I won't!"

"Good!"

"Now get your worthless ass back in the kitchen and make me dinner, and stay outta my study!" he shouted, grabbing her and literally kicking her out of the room, and then slamming the door.

Harley rose to her feet, rubbing her bottom. "The dumb jerk," she muttered, heading for the kitchen. "Thinking it's funny to scare a gal like that. He's such a selfish, thoughtless creep sometimes."

At dinner, they didn't speak a word. Harley was still fuming, and glared across the table at him, until she suddenly demanded, "Well, how is it?"

"Fine," he grunted.

"Just fine?" she pressed. "Y'know I slaved over that, the least you can do is say it's good. Wouldn't kill you to show some manners and be a little grateful."

"If I did that, you'd probably think I'm dying again, Harl," he retorted.

"I wouldn't think you're dying if you didn't act like a selfish creep for once in your life!" she snapped. "Might be a pleasant change!"

He stood up. "What do you want me to do, Harley?" he demanded. "If I'm not selfish, you think I'm dying, and if I am, you think I'm a jerk! Just tell me what I can say or do that's not going to upset you!"

"Well, it looks like nothing, don't it?" she shrieked, standing up too. "Looks like you just upset me, Mr. J! And you don't even care, do you?! Not about me, or about my feelings, or…" she burst into tears. "You're just a monster, Mr. J! And I hate you! I hate you!"

She sobbed and ran off down the hall to their bedroom. She slammed the door and then threw herself onto the bed, crying into her pillows.

She must have cried herself to sleep, because she woke up when it was dark to feel a hand on her shoulder. "You're crazy, you know that, kid?" murmured the Joker's voice.

Harley nodded, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "Uh huh," she whispered.

She gazed at him with her wide, blue eyes, and saw his face break into a smile. "I like that," he whispered, taking her in his arms. He kissed her, and she returned it, pulling him down on the bed.

"Thanks for the flowers, puddin'," she murmured, as she lay cuddled in his arms later.

"Don't mention it, you dumb blonde," he yawned. He looked down at her. "I mean it. Don't mention it ever again. It'll just upset you."

Harley giggled. "Don't worry, Mr. J," she murmured, kissing him. "I won't let other people know you can be sweet."

She shut her eyes and curled up next to him. "I love you, puddin'," she murmured.

He didn't respond. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "It's ok, you can say it," she whispered. "I promise I won't get mad."

He grinned. "No, I don't trust you, pooh," he said, rolling over to face away from her. "Goodnight, Harley."

"Aw, c'mon, Mr. J," pressed Harley, shaking him gently. "Say you love me too."

"No, I don't think so, Harley," he retorted. "That would be nice, and you nearly bit my head off the last time I did something nice. So goodnight, Harley."

"Mr. J…" she whined.

"Goodnight, Harley," he repeated, firmly.

Harley sighed in resignation, and snuggled against his back. "It's ok, you don't have to say it," she muttered. "I know you do."

He rolled over to face her again. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Of course I know you love me. You wouldn't keep me around if you didn't, would you?"

He sighed. "Well, then it ain't a very good joke, is it?" he muttered. "No suspense if you already know the punchline. Boring joke, no fun," he yawned, rolling over again. "I love you too, Harl."

Harley beamed. "Now that's a punchline I never get tired of hearing, puddin'," she breathed, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

**The End**


End file.
